Posted by Sawney Beane on May 02, 2006 at 23:29:23:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #14
LAST FRIDAY NIGHT
by Sawney Beane
5 July 1994
2,502 words
DISTRIBUTION NOTICE and DISCLAIMER: Sawney Beane requests that any distribution of this work of fiction remain within the realm of social responsibility. This story is suitable neither for minors nor for the seeming majority of adults who have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality. It is pure fantasy, which means that, for whatever reason, someone has found it interesting to think about the events depicted herein. It does not in any way mean that the author would like to see this fantasy become reality, so if you are the type of person who might be swayed into doing something irrational by reading a work of fiction, the author respectfully requests that you decline to read further.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sawney Beane, originally a native of Edinburgh, lived for twenty-five years in a cave on the coast of County Galloway, subsisting on the flesh of unfortunate travellers, roughly a thousand of them all told. He and his wife raised a large family of eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons, and fourteen granddaughters. Eventually, the family was captured, and the whole lot was brutally and unjustifiably tortured and executed without trial. Since his death in the early 17th century, Beane has reformed his ways and now confines his atrocities to his literary endeavours.
WARNING: This story contains scenes of consensual snuff and gynophagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is not one of my favourites, but it is not all that bad. It's just that there isn't really anything special here that I don't cover in my other stories. This is just a slightly different angle. Herein we see the return of my reluctant cannibal and his eager meal. This is a fascinating topic for me for some reason that I don't quite understand. The fact that it takes place in a socially acceptable setting in a reputable dining establishment makes it even better.
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Ted and I walked into the Pleasant-Nite Cafe on Thirteenth Street last Friday after work. I didn't want to go, but Ted insisted. It was my first visit to a so-called "flesh cafe" on a Friday night; the whole concept made me a bit queasy. We arrived just before four thirty. Ted wanted to get there early so that he could claim his choice of meat.
As we entered, our eyes were drawn to the back of the cafe. A nearly nude blonde woman was lying on the counter and removing the last of her clothing, a red flowered skirt. She shouted merrily at us across the restaurant, "Aha, my first customers! I'll be right with you."
Ted's mouth hung open as he stared at what he had come for. The woman's breasts were quite large, perhaps the largest natural breasts I'd ever seen. They were far too large for my liking, but Ted was in Heaven. We approached the counter, one of us more eagerly than the other. The whole scene seemed eerie and unpleasant to me.
"I'm not for sale until five, but I can take your orders now if you like." She was not my ideal woman, but she was far from unattractive. She must have been in her mid-twenties, and her blonde hair was a bit too frizzy and overdone, her jaw a bit too angular, her breasts far too large, and her pubic hair too copious, but I'm nit-picking now. In general, I'd say she looked like a lower-class woman who spent a great deal of time trying to look well-to-do. The end result was an air of trashiness. Nonetheless, she had quite an attractive navel.
She was entirely naked save a gold diamond-studded chain around her right wrist. She was on her back on the counter with her right side facing the door. She seemed nervous and excited at the same time, and she clearly wanted to please us. "I'm quite inexpensive. My base price is $100 a pound, just $200 for choice parts and $50 for scraps." She was unsettlingly casual about her auto-salesmanship.
Ted stepped forward and reserved an entire breast. I was revolted. I know it's a delicacy, but it isn't very healthy at all, and it was a big meal. Ted was going to get fatter than he already was. The blonde girl was obviously pleased, "I knew they'd go fast." She touched one nipple with each index finger, "I've always been a little bit proud of them." Ted responded with the compliments she was fishing for.
The girl turned her attention to me, and my knees began to knock. "How about you? I've got one left."
"No, no, they're very nice, but I don't really go for that kind of thing."
She seemed disappointed, "Well, what would you like?" She waved her arms and legs about by way of display, "I've been told I have lovely feet, and my thighs are quite tender. My ass is not too bad if I do say so myself, or you could wait for some nice internal organs, my heart or brain maybe?" She was trying hard.
I tried to be polite, "Actually, I thought I might just have a piece of cherry pie."
I was guilty of blasphemy. "Come on, you can have pie any day, but you won't get a taste of me after tonight!"
I thought that it would be impolite to remind her that I could buy a piece of girl meat on any given Friday night in any one of at least five cafes like the Pleasant-Nite in the city, many of them serving better-looking women. For that matter, I could choose from at least three cafes that served men, or I could go to a gourmet restaurant and get a really high quality lass if my paycheck was larger. I didn't mention it. "I really don't think that I could afford you."
"Nonsense, I'm a steal!"
"I'm a vegetarian." It wasn't entirely a lie.
"Why?"
"I don't think it's right to eat other creatures."
"Not even if you have their permission?"
She had me there. Also, I was beginning to realize that I was going to have to choose between offending her and consuming her. I didn't like my options, but I couldn't bear to insult her in her last few hours of life. So, I fished about in my wallet and pulled out a fifty. "All right, you've won me over. I'll take a half pound of your hand and wrist." My stomach turned.
She smiled an attractive smile, and I wondered who would end up buying her face. "I knew you were just dying inside to wrap your teeth around a piece of me!" She sat up and kissed me on the lips. I was beginning to regret my decision.
Ted sat down two seats away, which kind of forced me to sit adjacent to her head. I looked at my watch; it was 4:45. I nervously tried to make small talk with my meal, "I'm Tom Buchannan, by the way."
"I'm Jennifer Matthews from Columbus. Nice to meet you." She extended her left hand for me to shake. I should have gone with the foot.
"You mean you're not local?" I asked.
"No, most restaurants buy their food from out of town to protect us from the embarrassment of having to sell our bodies to acquaintances. They think it might bug me to watch the boy who dumped me the day before the junior prom eating my ass." She laughed an endearing laugh.
"I didn't know that." An uneasy silence followed for a few minutes. Then I asked, "Why are you selling you body?"
She became serious, "I didn't see any reason not to."
"But you could live a long fulfilling life; why die young voluntarily?"
"I'm twenty-six, and my life is not horrible, but it isn't going to amount to anything. There's no chance of my ever being anybody, and I don't see any need to waste time living pointlessly. Why not cut my losses and please several dozen hungry men in the process? If there's an afterlife, I'll try again."
"I'm sorry, I should be more supportive. I'm not doing a very good job of comforting the dying am I? This is no time to fill your head with doubts."
"Yeah, I'm already under contract, but don't worry; I'm not having any doubts."
I looked at my watch again. It was 4:58. A waitress in a pink uniform approached Jennifer behind the counter. The waitress was a bit mousy with straight brown hair and dark eyes and was very quiet. She was not very attractive by conventional standards, but I personally thought that she was prettier than my dinner. She wore an expression of boredom that never left her cute face.
"Oh, my! It's show time," said Jennifer, noticing the approaching waitress, "I'll have her take your part off first, Tom." She smiled, and I wanted to pick her up and carry her home. She wouldn't have allowed it though.
I placed my money on the table; you had to pay up front because they didn't like dismembering girls for people who couldn't pay. The waitress tied a tight tourniquet just below Jennifer's left elbow to prevent blood loss. Then, with an expert eye, she estimated the weight of Jennifer's hand and wrist and used a large cleaver to sever the limb. She deftly sliced off the hand and about two inches of slender wrist. When placed on a scale, the piece was shown to weigh almost exactly half a pound. To further prevent blood loss, the waitress sprayed the stump with an aerosol silicone sealant, which hardened into a thin rubbery film.
Jennifer responded with only a brief grimace as the hand was removed. My guilt was immense, "Does that hurt you much?"
"Excruciating!"
"Why do you let them do it?"
She smiled broadly, "Just kidding, I'm so doped up I can't feel anything below the neck."
"Why did you grimace when she cut you?"
"I don't know. They said that I would still feel a bit of a cracking thing when they cut through bones, despite the anaesthetic. It wasn't all that bad though."
Ted rushed over for his big moment and placed a large stack of bills on the table. At two hundred dollars a pound, his meal was quite an investment. He and I helped Jennifer to sit up. The waitress placed a sharp knife under Jennifer's left breast and slid it upwards. When Jennifer was on her back again, the waitress sprayed her wound with the silicone spay. Both pieces of meat were taken back for preparation. Jennifer seemed unconcerned. "My chest feels so light!" she said.
By this time, other customers were filtering in, and pieces of Jennifer were disappearing. Her remaining breast was the third casualty. It was followed to the ovens rapidly by her other hand and both feet. Her limbs were intermittently shortened as customers requested their part of choice.
"How long do you expect to live?" I asked during a lull in the dismemberment.
"Well, when my breasts, legs, and arms are gone, they'll sell my ass and shoulders, but they'll try to keep me alive still. When those're gone they'll open me up, and I'll be gone. They say that usually happens around eight o'clock, but I'm moving fast. The restaurant doesn't close until midnight, so they'll have four more hours to finish me off."
"How do people reserve internal organs?" I asked during another lull.
"Anyone can ask for my heart or some ribs or my brain any time. They get their name on a piece of paper, and if they're here when I am opened up, they can buy my organs. Most of them are reserved already."
I can't believe that I was so brash as to ask these questions, but my curiosity must have overpowered my uneasiness. The uneasiness returned around 5:30 when my dinner was placed before me. Jennifer looked on as I examined the roasted piece of flesh. It was garnished with a pineapple ring and a tuft of parsley. I picked up a fork and began to eat carefully. I clearly did not want to insult her by throwing up, which was a very real possibility with the state of my stomach at that point.
"How do you like me?" she had to ask. She was by that time lacking most of her left thigh and arm but retained her right elbow and knee. She didn't show any signs of regret.
Despite my misgivings, I had to admit that the meat was tender and tasty. I complimented her highly as I paused from sucking on a thumb knuckle. I didn't leave a single bit of flesh on the bones.
Meanwhile, Ted had gobbled down the whole massive breast with relish. He thought it was worth the bundle he paid for it. But he had to get home to the wife and kids, so he thanked Jennifer and left. I stayed with her.
Jennifer and I continued our conversation between strikes of the cleaver. By 6:45 her limbs were entirely absent. Her buttocks and shoulders were snapped up and carefully removed before 7:10. Then they made preparations for her final dismantlement.
The waitress held a piece of paper for Jennifer to read. She announced the name written on it, and a man stepped forward to claim her heart and pay for it. He was rewarded with a claim check and a kiss and waited in the corner for his dinner. The rest of her essential body parts were distributed likewise. She read the names of the people who would dine on her brain, face, eyes, tongue, neck, lungs, liver, stomach, pancreas, ribs, spine, flank steaks, shoulder blades, genitals, intestines, spleen, kidneys, and bladder. Any remaining bits would be sold off upon availability at $50 per pound. Most of the organs, the face, eyes, and genitals were, like the breasts and buttocks, considered choice bits and carried the $200 per pound price.
Jennifer spoke to me at 7:45 when all of her parts had been assigned to new owners, "Good-bye, it's been nice talking to you."
"Good-bye, good luck in the next life."
She kissed me as the waitress approached with a small but menacing knife. She inserted it carefully but mercilessly into the flesh at the border of Jennifer's pubic hair. The waitress moved, as she had all evening, with the bored familiarity of one who slaughters animals for food regularly. She coldly slid the blade up Jennifer's median line to her pretty navel, which was ruthlessly bisected. The waitress never spoke to Jennifer, who was just a bit of lifeless meat to her. This would soon be even more true.
As the knife reached the base of Jennifer's sternum, she called to the waitress, who reluctantly stopped and allowed Jennifer to whisper something in her ear. Then Jennifer spoke to me, "Are you married?"
"No, why?"
"Pity I didn't meet you a few weeks ago."
I felt the tears well up in my eyes as the knife stopped between Jennifer's collarbones. The waitress dropped the knife and slid her hands under the ends of Jennifer's sternum. It was yanked out of the body with one firm pull. Jennifer grunted slightly and appeared to lose consciousness. The waitress placed a hand on each side of the ribcage and pulled the torso open with an awful cracking sound. Jennifer's life was over, and her insides were exposed to view for outsiders.
The waitress paused to bring me a piece of cherry pie. The waitress explained that Jennifer had requested that its price be deducted from the fifty percent of her proceeds that was to be given to her family. The diamond bracelet from her arm was draped over it. I had lost track of the bracelet as her arm had been eroded.
I looked at her face. Her eyes were open and stared into space above and to the left of me. Her mouth held a slight frown, but her face showed no sign of extreme stress. I wondered if I would have saved her from all of this if I had known her. After all, she was not really my type, and it took the long conversation as her body decayed to make me fall in love with her.
I watched sadly as the waitress peeled the flesh from Jennifer's face. I watched as she tossed it carelessly onto the griddle. I mourned as the delicate muscles which had caused Jennifer's infectious smile were turned into steak.
I looked at the absent face and saw the exposed facial bones. The waitress continued emotionlessly to carve up the carcass with her collection of knives. I resolved to never set foot in a "flesh cafe" on a Friday again for the rest of my life.
I looked at Jennifer's sparse remains once more and began numbly to eat my dessert.